


you talk about your politics (and i wonder if you could be one of them)

by cosmicpoet



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Crimes & Criminals, Detectives, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 10:22:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19851166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicpoet/pseuds/cosmicpoet
Summary: Shuichi is a weary detective, trying to 'solve' the crimes of the organisation known as DICE, despite the fact that its leader sits at home, waiting with takeout and Netflix.





	you talk about your politics (and i wonder if you could be one of them)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1auriam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1auriam/gifts).



Shuichi stretches and yawns himself awake alongside the dawn. It’s customary for him to wake before even the sun - he thinks it’s dumb, but he likes to feel the accomplishment of it all, to watch the sunrise paint the horizon softly. It reminds him of why he’s alive. There’s that, and Kokichi, of course. No matter how much he fakes an exasperated smile at his boyfriend’s latest tricks, and even despite the secrecy of their relationship being hidden from Shuichi’s fellow detectives, something about the thrill and pure love of it all makes him feel safe. It’s strange, really, to find comfort in something that rests on such an unstable thread, but he’s never felt more certain than he does in the presence of a liar who sometimes tells the truth in the whispers of moonlight and their twin bed.

Still, as usual, Kokichi isn’t next to him this morning. Sometimes, Shuichi allows himself the selfish wish of waking up next to him, seeing the soft rise and fall of his chest; to tell him, silently, and in the closing of the night, that he loves him, would be more than just a waking dream. Then again, it wouldn’t be _Kokichi,_ only an idealised version of his shell, and Shuichi would much rather have all of the flaws in their beautiful reality, than something that he’s not even sure how to hold onto. 

Getting out of bed, he makes his way to the shower, washing off the traces of muted sleep and lethargy. Once he’s dressed and ready, he finds himself in the kitchen, pouring coffee into his favourite mug and wiping down the surfaces, upon which Kokichi’s toast crumbs have long since dried. He peels off a post-it note from the counter, struggling to read it without his reading glasses, which he picks up from the coffee table and balances gently against his nose.

_“You’ll see why I wasn’t home for breakfast when you get to the office. Love you (not a lie)!_

_;) - Kokichi”_

He sighs, a smile on his face. Obviously, there’ll be extra paperwork, and added suspicion in the office of why he always somehow _knows_ that the infamous trickster group DICE have taunted them before he sees the evidence, but it’s enough to keep him on his toes as Tokyo’s best detective - not a title that he gave himself, or particularly cares for, but the multiple non-DICE-related crimes that he’s penned his name to in solving have given him far too many newspaper headlines than he’s comfortable with. Within the private detective business, and even in the hushed rumours of Tokyo, he’s almost a celebrity. 

The office doesn’t welcome him with any status, though. Instead, he’s greeted by sighs and mumbled _good mornings,_ biting down on his lip to keep the smirk from creeping onto his face. As much as he’s exasperated with Kokichi and DICE’s antics, there’s a certain sense of pride that he feels every time his own side hits a dead end. After all, there’d be no point, at least in Kokichi’s eyes, if the opponents weren’t just as worthy in their own, strange way. He’s not even sure any more that he _wants_ to catch DICE.

At first, he’d been adamant that his personal life wouldn’t affect his performance on the job. He’d told Kokichi this multiple times, rehashing the same statements about professionalism and competence, but nothing could deter his boyfriend from the natural calling of chaos. Right now, he’s just happy that he can walk the line between solving other crimes, and smirking at the harmless pranks pulled by someone he would never want to see prosecuted. Sure, that makes him biased, but he’d bet money that most of the people working around him have their own facets of favouritism, a fact that makes him feel less guilty about not choosing a side.

As he walks to the office of his superior, he sees exactly why tensions in the office are so high. The whole place is covered in glue and feathers, with important documents either burned or scribbled over, rendering them useless without their backups. It doesn’t take a detective - much less Tokyo’s best - to understand that the destroyed records show people who are most likely to be innocent, just victims of the so-called justice system; the poor and disadvantaged. All hail the scapegoats.

“Are you smiling, Saihara?” His boss barks at him.

“O-Oh, no, sir,” Shuichi says, controlling his face, “just confused. I thought we doubled down on security in the building after the last incident.”

“We fucking did. And these…these DICE bastards still got in!”

“But, sir, these records are on the system anyway. It’s not like we _lost_ anything. If anything, I…I think they were trying to prove a point. You know, with the amount of times DICE have evaded capture, they’d be smart enough to know that destroying physical documents wouldn’t destroy any actual evidence.”

“So you’re saying this is some political bullshit?!”

“Potentially, yes.”

“Then fuck them even harder. There’s no time for politics in this business.”

“Sir, if you don’t mind my saying, any justice system has to be inherently linked to politics. Otherwise, how can we claim to be working alongside the law?”

“Bullshit, Saihara! We don’t give a shit who criminals are, only the crimes they commit!”

“Well, yes, I agree. My point is, that the justice system is…perhaps… _biased._ There are innocent people who are condemned, and guilty ones who go free, and the axis upon which that works is so often -”

“I won’t hear any more of your anarchist bullshit! Keep it up and you’ll be out of a job, boy. Now, send the cleaners in on your way out.”

“A-Alright.”

Shuichi leaves the room, his head hanging down. He’s worked so hard, with therapy and support from his friends, to stop doubting his abilities, but five minutes with his boss sends him straight back into self-loathing.

_“You’re lucky to have this job,”_ the persistent voice inside his head says, _“you’re worthless. Talentless. If they fire you, nobody would blame them.”_

He bites back tears, walking to his desk and pulling out his phone. The compulsion to text Kokichi rings loud in his head and, weakly, he gives in.

**< To Kokichi: 10:01am> **Boss is being a dick again.

**< From Kokichi: 10:14am> **awwwwww shuichiiiiii you should quit ;-;

**< To Kokichi: 10:15am> **You know it’s not that simple.

**< From Kokichi: 10:15am> **i knowwwwww but u shouldnt have 2 take his shit. ill throw rocks @ him fr fr

**< To Kokichi: 10:16am> **I think you’ve done enough. ;).

He puts his phone down and gets on with his work. It’s boring enough - the DICE crimes should be easy to solve, but there’s a mental block in his mind that prevents him from putting his best foot forward. Instead, he just cross-references other crimes, trying to find unrelated leads, until the clock ticks towards 5pm and he can go home.

As he rides the Metro with his headphones on, he closes his eyes and tries to imagine an easy life. It’s not something he particularly wants, but it’s a fantasy he can escape into, much like the ones he used to entertain in his late teen years, right up to his early twenties - the thoughts of being a famous detective, solving murders, having people rely on him. Perhaps he’d even tread the boundary into infamy, and it enamoured him back then, the thoughts of being betrayed, of abstract shot put murders and not being pitied, but still being helped with his problems nevertheless.

He’s grown since then. Obviously. It still pulls at his mind, sometimes, how much he wishes he could just be taken care of. It’s a fantasy to be allowed to be weak, and to have Kokichi bandage up his heart, not steal it like some phantom thief, but it’s not something he’d like to practice in reality. He’s satisfied, in at least this sense of the word, with what he’s got.

Kokichi welcomes him back into the apartment with a smile.

“I ordered takeout,” he says, “and I got your favourite!”

“Oh,” Shuichi replies, “thank you.”

“Wanna talk about work?”

“Not really.”

“I’m gonna make you talk about it anyway.”

“I know.”

“So you may as well just get on with it.”

“I just…I get why you do the DICE stuff, I really do. God, I agree with you half the time. It’s just…not fun, I guess, when my boss, y’know…acts like it’s my fault.”

“Do you think they know we’re dating?”

“No, no, god no, it’s not that. It’s just…I’m supposed to be the best detective in Tokyo. Fuck, I never _asked_ for that title, and now I have to live up to it? It’s not fair.”

“You’d be better at his job than him.”

“Maybe so. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m his employee. He’s my… _superior.”_

“Shuichiiiii, I hate that word! You’re not inferior to anybody!”

“Try telling _him_ that.”

“Ha, I will.”

“No…no, don’t. Please…just lay off the DICE stuff for a while. At least in the office.”

“You know I can’t.”

“I know. I know. Sorry…I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s alright, though. I suppose it _does_ ruin the element of surprise if I do some shit every day.”

“You know, that doesn’t really _help_ my anxiety.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Kokichi leans in and whispers in Shuichi’s ear, “but it helps you become a better detective.”

“Hm. I’m not sure if that’s even my goal anymore.”

“Shuichi! You can’t give up that easily. It’s no fun if you just give up.”

“I don’t really care about fun any more. I just want things to be easy.”

“Pff, who wants things to be _easy?_ Certainly not me! And not you, either, when you’re out of one of your depressed moods.”

“Hey, don’t act like I’m the only one who’s depressed.”

“Yeah, but I actually take my medication.”

“I try to remember,” Shuichi mumbles, sadly.

“Well…maybe we can work out some kind of schedule.”

“That’d be…nice. Yeah, nice.”

“Alright,” Kokichi says, standing up from the sofa, “I’m gonna go get the food. Sit tight… _detective.”_

Shuichi can barely choke out a laugh before Kokichi is gone from the room like a whirlwind.

They eat together in relative silence. Shuichi wants to start a conversation, but he’s not sure what he would talk about besides work and stress, and he recently swore to himself that he would stop bringing the office home with him - a promise that came as much to Kokichi as it did to himself, after he worked himself to the bone for three days straight and nearly ended up hospitalised from the exhaustion.

When the food is finished, he takes a resigned breath and says the words that he doesn’t really want to say. “Isn’t it time you went out…you know, to do your DICE stuff?”

“Nah,” Kokichi replies, “not tonight. I thought I’d stay in.”

“Really? Because…you don’t need to, on my account, at least.”

“Nah, it’s not for _you,_ silly! I’m just exhausted,” he draws out the word dramatically, “and every great Supreme Leader needs his beauty sleep! So let’s watch Netflix. It’s my turn to choose the movie!”

Shuichi _could_ remind Kokichi that it’s technically his turn to choose the movie, but he stays silent, savouring the moment. There’s a blanket down the side of the sofa that they both pull over themselves and share. Midway through the movie _Killer Klowns from Outer Space,_ Kokichi gets up to make popcorn, bringing Shuichi some tea alongside the snacks. They’re both tired, but they see the film through to its conclusion; with Kokichi resting in the crook of Shuichi’s elbow, he smiles at the sight of his boyfriend nodding off into the tentative boundary between sleeping and waking. Perhaps it is okay to exist in that liminality, after all.

That night, he falls asleep in his boyfriend’s arms.

And wakes up in them, too.

**Author's Note:**

> My amazing friend Lau drew [this art](https://twitter.com/1auriam/status/1141035538822172672) and I just _had_ to write something based on it!
> 
> Please comment if you liked. Title from 'The Sea is a Good Place to Think of the Future' by Los Campesinos!


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